Brandon's Birthday
by Braindead123
Summary: Brandon's parents are rarely around, so it falls to his Pokemon friends to be his constant friends and companions. They're happy to fulfill this role, but when Brandon's birthday is imminent, they need to pull something extra special out of their metaphorical hats... Contains a lot of Pokemon/underaged human M/M yaoi pokephilia sex. Enjoy! n.n
1. Rago's Rutting

"Guys," The Swampert addressed the group of five other Pokemon in the living room. "We really need to try extra hard this week to be there for Brandon."

"Why do you say that, Pert?" spoke the gathering's Dragonite, Rago.

"The kid's putting on a brave face, but I just passed by his bedroom. He's not asleep; he's crying."

"Wait, what?" piped up the Typhlosion, "Why? It isn't about his parents being away, is it? I mean, that's nothing new after all."

"Maybe that's the problem, Ty," interjected number four, an Ursaring, "When's the last time his parents were home for more than a month at a time?"

"Well, can you really blame them?" countered Ty, "We know they'd be here if business didn't keep them away."

"But that's exactly it, Ty," argued Pert, "The kid may as well have been raising himself for the past four years. Now they're going to miss his birthday? I wouldn't be happy, either.

The fifth Pokemon, a Blaziken, then came up with, "Then what should we do? His fourteenth is in a week. Maybe we could plan something real big for this one. Something special."

"Just what I was thinking, Zike," snickered the group's Zangoose, "And I know exactly how we'll do it. Remember what Rago caught Brandon doing that one time?" Nobody said a word. "Rago, you didn't tell anybody else that the kid is a total slut for Pokemon?"

Everybody looked to the Dragonite, who shrugged. "It wasn't my secret to give away," he stated flatly.

"Ah, you sly bastard!" joked Zan the Zangoose, "I bet you just wanted to keep him all to yourself, didn't you?"

"No!" recoiled Rago shyly, cheeks becoming rosy. "Well, I mean, I would want to, but I've never actually tried to... you know." He was clearly becoming nervous.

The Zangoose advanced towards him, mischievously smirked and inquired, "Would you like to?"

* * *

The following day was a Sunday, only six days before the birthday of the aforementioned Brandon. Contrary to how he was described the previous night, he had a cheerful, bouncy attitude when he came downstairs for lunch, and his Pokemon were already gatherer around the table eating. "Hey, guys! What's for lunch?" the boy asked heartily, taking a seat for himself.

"Actually, before that, we wanted to talk about your fourteenth birthday," informed the Ursaring.

Brandon's face didn't fall. "Oh, ha, there's no need for that! Just because my parents-" The boy's voice momentarily caught, and his happy facade fleetingly faltered, "Just because my parents won't be here doesn't mean you all have to bother yourselves!"

"Well, bud, we respectfully disagree," joked Ty while lightly nudging the boy, "so unless you've got some elaborate scheme to stop us, it's happening."

"Now, here's what we were thinking," Sarin the Ursaring began to explain, "Your birthday is six days from now not counting today. Coincidentally, there are six of us. So, our plan is to split the days between ourselves. Starting today, each of us is going to do something... special..." Zan was finding laughter hard to resist while hearing this, "And the actual day of your fourteenth is when the real big celebration will be. Until then, each one of us has our own little surprise for you." The ursine Pokemon leaned in, "Sound good?"

"Well, I guess so!" agreed Seth, "How can I say no?"

"Great!" concurred Zan, who then pointed to Rago. "The big guy there gets you later today when he's ready. Until then-" the 'goose cut himself off as he passed the boy a plate of pizza, "Bon appe-freakin'-tite, kid!"

* * *

Rago stood outside the boy's bedroom door around 9PM smirking outwardly and chuckling inwardly; he didn't need the door ope to know what Brandon was doing, as he could simply smell it. Rather than barge in and catch him in the act, however, he opted to knock instead and prolong the charade a little bit more. "Hang on a second!" cried Seth from the door's other side, and the Dragon's sharp ears picked up a laptop being hastily closed and clothes sliding over skin. As he patiently waited, he thought to all of his hard work that afternoon and was in great anticipation to find out whether it shall have been for something.

Despite his most recent activity, Brandon put on a normal face as he opened up his door. "Yeah? Oh, Rago! What's up, big guy?"

Rago smiled warmly. "Come on outside. There's something I want to show you," he told the boy, gesturing for him to follow.

The kid did so, being sure to close the door behind himself, and traced the dragon's steps into the backyard. He looked around, but found nothing that was either interesting or had not previously been there. Trying to avoid seeming ungrateful or impatient, as he was neither, he gently inquired, "Uh... where is it?"

"It isn't here," informed Rago, "It's a small way off. You know, I've known you since you were born, and yet you've never ridden me."

Brandon looked away, slightly embarrassed and seeing if he could try to cover the reasoning behind that. "Well, it- it doesn't really seem like something you just, well, ask for. I mean-"

"Shh," the dragon interrupted gently, bending over and crouching down with his paws behind his back. "Then don't ask. Just climb on!" With great apprehension, the boy lept upwards and tried to land a foot on a paw. He succeeded the second time, and the Rago used that to boost the boy up to where Brandon could hand on by the shoulders while the 'mon supported him by the thighs. In simpler terms, they were in a piggy-back position.

Rago glances back at his new rider and asked, "Ready?"

"I guess so," mumbled Brandon as he started to grip his friends sides with his knees. Rago let loose a mighty roar and flapped his small but strong wings and ascended like a small rocket. The two gripped each other as tightly as was possible until the gentle giant leveled himself out, allowing Brandon to simply lie down flat. "Ah man..." he moaned.

"Ha!" snickered Rago, "Please, that was just a normal takeoff. Believe me, I can do much more than that. Want to see?"

"No!" Brandon cried instantly, "Actually, I..." He started to grip Rago very tightly. "I-I'm actually rather-" He softly whimpered. "-acrophobic."

Hearing this, the Dragonite felt as if he had just been hit by a Smack Down attack; Brandon was the last person he expected to fear heights, and the only way to give the boy his gift in the fashion he intended was to fly Brandon to it. Fortunately, the flight was a mere minute-and-a-half long, and Rago managed to make it through without choking to death. He descended into a woodsy area where a small clearing had been very recently made.

"Tell me it's over," mumbled the boy after sliding down his friend's back, falling down on his face, and getting back up with great difficulty due to dizziness. Rago had to assist him towards the location of his surprise: inside of a small, but cozy looking hut comprised of wood from fallen trees and leaves.

"Yeah, it's over," confirmed the dragon as the two passed the entryway of the little structure. Brandon tried walking around a little on his own, but his land-legs hadn't quite entirely returned. So, he fell flat on his back into a previously prepared leaf pile that Rago had planned for another purpose; and while he didn't quite plan for it to happen like this (or this easily), it seemed his best chance had come.

The dragon _conveniently_ plopped on top of his human friend, knowing that the leaves would be a sufficient cushion to prevent all injury. The two briefly chuckled once Brandon had gotten over the shock. "So," the kid brought up while still beneath the Dragonite, "This place is my present, then?"

Rago shook his head. "No," he told Brandon while a paw that had started at the human's chest gradually slid southbound. "This is just where I'm going to give it to you. Or, rather, where I'll take it from you and relieve you of it," he hinted ominously with his paw resting on the boy's groin area. Beneath Brandon's pants, the 'mon could both feel and smell a stirring.

Brandon was becoming nervous and was almost sure his untimely arousal was not at all lost on his larger friend. "Wh-what is it, then?" the boy stammered, now making attempts to crawl out from beneath the beast and preserve a little bit of decency.

Rago would have none of that. His free forepaw pinned Brandon right back down to Earth, eliminating the possibility of escape. As he hooked a claw through the miniscule hole in the zipper of Brandon's shorts, he leaned downwards and whispered into the kid's ear, "Your virginity." Brandon caught the unmistakable sound of a zipper moving downwards, and he gasped; he didn't really know what to think or what to do.

"My- you-" he stammered, starting to lightly sweat. "N-no! You're a P-Pokemon and I'm- well, I'm not!"

The Dragonite sat up a little and smirked. "Come on now," he taunted, sliding the shorts down his human's legs, "We both know that doesn't dissuade you. In fact," he continued, Brandon's bulging underwear now all that kept his private parts private, "We also both know that the idea very much arouses you."

Brandon couldn't look him in the eye anymore, so he let his head roll to the side. "I'm sorry. I can't help it," he mumbled quite softly, feeling sincerely ashamed of himself. Rago's response was to gently nuzzle his human partner, beginning beneath the chin and working up to the exposed cheek.

"That's good," comforted the beast, "I don't want you to. Right now-" Brandon suddenly felt something firmly grip his boyhood beneath his briefs. "-I want you just to lay here and make yourself comfortable-" That something let go and slipped the boy's undergarments right off. "-while I get you ready for your first dragon fucking." Rago rolled off from atop the boy and settles down beside him, one paw snuggling him close and the other creeping downwards and gently rubbing Brandon's rear.

"R-Rago, I-I don't know. What if we're found out?"

"Who would tell?" inquired the dragon, a digit lightly tracing the rim of Brandon's ass. "I'm not going to, so we can't be found out if you don't say anything, can we?"

Brandon looked Rago straight in the eye with a mildly pained expression as the 'mon's claw slipped up his tailpipe. "I don't want to have to lie to the other Pokemon."

Rago comforted his human with several gentle laps from his wide, smooth, and wet tongue as the claw steadily worked its way in further. "You don't have to. You don't think I'm the only one in on the plan behind your surprise, do you?" he chuckled, the claw now in as far as Rago's paw could let it go.

The fact of his darkest secret being known by Rago had previously scared Brandon. The possibility of still more knowing not only that but the actions he and Rago were engaged in now frightened him greatly. He quietly whimpered, and it wasn't due to the dragon digit up his tailpipe, which in fact was quite steadily growing accustomed to being filled. "Who else knows?" Brandon cried.

The dragon decided his human as ready for a second claw, so he glided it in. "All of us are, of course. And you know what? They want a piece of you, too."

"All of them?" Brandon asked incredulously.

Rago nodded. The digits up Brandon's ass had both sunk in as far as was possible, so they began to move subtly at first and soon much more noticeably in the effort to prepare the boy for a different sort of intrusion up there. "How do you feel?"questioned Rago with some concern after some time.

Brandon was all but relaxed at that point, and, though the fact made his cheeks rosy, he found that he rather enjoyed being played with by his friend. "I feel... pretty good," he confessed. This earned more tender nuzzles from the Dragonite, who subsequently pulled Brandon still closer ad picked up his work down south.

"Do you think you're ready, Brandon?" Rago inquired, pausing briefly.

_Am I?_ Brandon wondered, _I mean, at this point, I may still be able to walk away guitlessly, but if we go any further, I can lose that option. Am I ready for something like this? Neither of us would ever be able to simply forget it, after all. Will I go this far for a fantasy?_ "Yes," he decided, "I think I'm ready." _I hope I don't regret this._

"Then roll over for me," the dragon requested, withdrawing his claws from his friend's anus. Though the position ended up making Brandon blush from great embarrassment, he got comfortable on his hands and knees, luckily having the leaves to act as a bit of a cushion, and flashed his butt at Rago, who licked his own lips at the sight. The 'mon wished he could simply shove in his mating organ and rut the boy like his personal bitch, but they both knew the boy could not possibly be ready for that... yet. Rago got down on his own knees and took a strong, firm grip of Brandon's hips. "Get ready for dragon cock, kid!" he exclaimed just before beginning the steady glide-in.

"Oh!" cried Brandon at the very beginning of the insertion, but that turned into a soft moan as many inches more were fed into him. Brandon felt not simply dick being given to him but himself being pulled towards it, and all of it was a new and unique sensation to him. At points during the insertion, he would think that little more remained to be fed into him only to find that plenty still remained to give him a good stretching; Rago was rather well endowed. Despite this, however, the two's lower regions did end up pressing into each other, meaning that every last bit of cock was swallowed up by the boy's anus, and Brandon was quite impressed. "Wow..." he commented, "You're... well..."

"Thank you," chuckled Rago, patting the boy's side a few time in a sort of condescending praise. "You're ass is nice and snug, too." This compliment made Brandon look down and blush in slight embarrassment. "Now, relax and enjoy your first Pokemon fuck," declared the dragon as he finally commenced movement.

Brandon found himself moaning almost involuntarily after very few thrusts. He couldn't quite help it; though Rago was trying to be gentle with the boy, he not only was rather large in dick size, but was naturally strong and powerful, so gentle for him is moderate for the typical human. Though the act was not at all forced, the Dragonite's unyielding grip on Brandon's body and the boy's lack of good position to resist meant that this mating was not to be interrupted under any circumstances in Brandon's mind, a thought that only aroused him all the more.

Brandon's verbalization of pleasure was music to the ears of Rago just as the touch of the boy's walls made him feel like his very core was being massaged. In turn, he grunted with his human every time the entirety of the mating organ was snuggles briefly by the surrounding anal passage. They kept tightening and relaxing insubject to Brandon's will, a sensation Rago couldn't quite get enough of. "How's that?" he teased, still thrusting. "How do you like Pokemon cock up your ass?" He knew the answer, but he also wanted to hear a bit of dirty talk.

"Ah! I can't believe... how good this feels!" Brandon called out between moans.

"You like dragon dick, then?" Rago taunted, escalating speed and power.

"I love it!" the boy exclaimed, finding that he liked being talked down to. "More, Rago!" he cried, "Take me! Rut me like your needy bitch, because that's what I am!" Rago and even Brandon was surprised by every last inhibition seeming t have gone on vacation. The dominant dragon wasn't about to complain, though; if this boy wanted to be rammed and pounded into the ground, this mon' would only be too happy to fulfill that wish.

Leaning forward, he plopped his entire great weight onto the boy, who's arms had no hope of supporting them both, so Brandon crumpled and became trapped between the dragon and the leafy cushion. However, Brandon kept his read lifted high in the air so that Rago could continue screwing him, and screw him he did. Almost going primal, the dragon's focus became breeding his bitch boy into submission before stuffing him with cum. Pinned beneath the beast, Brandon could (and luckily wanted to) do no more than be the pleasure hole of this lust-filled Pokemon.

"Unh! Oh, fuck me, Rago!" screamed the boy as he got screwed senseless. Not only was a desire for wild sex being satisfied, but it was a particularly erotic idea that it was not even a human cock that pounded at his insides, but that of a big and powerful Dragonite male. Brandon tried to keep his legs spread nice and widely for his sex partner to have all the room he wanted for the fucking.

Rago believed he had struck gold with this bitch by beneath himself, taking all he had to offer. They kept on fucking like animals for a long time yet. Brandon would and did cry out and moan with each deep, powerful, and rapid thrust of the sizable tool within him, and Rago likewise grunted and roared often from feral exhuberation. Only one thing could bring this sex machine to a halt. "Get ready, kid..." the dragon growled, "For a heaping of Dragonite cum!"

Merely the thought almost mad the eager boy shoot all over the leaves. "Oh, yes!" he cried in great excitement, "Breed your bitch! Fill my butt with all your Pokemon seed, Rago!"

That was good enough for this 'nite. His final thrust was also his strongest, and on completing it he kept it in there and ensured that each last millimeter of length was shoved inside by both continuing to push in and pulling Brandon towards himself. He maintained this as great ropes of warm, sticky dragon spunk were injected into and swallowed up by the kid's needy hole. "Oh, wow!" the boy exclaimed as he began to get filled, but that was only the beginning. By the time Rago was done, Brandon's ass was beyond full and leaking copious amounts once Rago had gone soft and popped out.

"Man," Brandon managed to cough out between very heavy pants, "That was..." He tried to stand up. "Was..." His eyes became droopy. Rago foresaw what was coming and lunged forward to keep his human from hitting the dirt face-first when he fainted. Fortunately, Rago managed to catch him in his paws. He carried Brandon outside, gave his cheek a gentle lick, and took off.

The flight home was far easier than the previous one.


	2. Zan's Scheme

Brandon spent pretty much the entire next day out of the house with Zan as his familiar. Unlike the greediness of Rago, who had just fucked the kid senseless with no real thought for the boy's own enjoyment (or so Zan justified for having no material gift), the Zangoose had thought he would treat the boy to a day of fun with his company. At the moment, Zan had a huge disadvantage in the game of laser tag they were teamed up for: being nearly all white, his whole body was lit up like a Christmas tree. Thankfully for him, the Machop that had been sneaking up on him was shot from afar by none other than Brandon, Up close and to his left, Zan heard Machop's vest shriek and ugly shriek, and from much father away his sensitive feline ears picked up the robotically-voiced praise that Brandon's gun had meant for the boy: "Good shot."

"Thanks!" Zeke called from across the arena to the boy whose location was known to Zan, though Brandon was ducked behind a wall now. However, the red glow of another vest caught the Pokemon's eye approaching his human. He rose, set the barrel of his laser gun on his own wall, lined up the laser dot with a glowing spot on the assailant's vest, and pulled the trigger twice. The first shot resulted only in a _zap_ sound effect; the second resulted in a distant shriek and his weapon telling him, "Good shot." The enemy having been shot, the would-be fake killer's lights went out, and his weapon failed to shoot for ten seconds. However, this was too long; seven seconds later, the arena's lights went up, and Zan's fur stopped glowing.

"How'd you do?" Brandon inquired after they had left the arcade.

"6,000!" proclaimed Zan proudly. "You?"

"Ah, you got me!" complained Brandon, "I got 5,800!"

"Haha!" Zan laughed victoriously, "Maybe next time, kid. What's the time, anyway?"

* * *

It wasn't until rather late in the afternoon that Zan and Brandon returned home after the long and exciting day, not until a small while before supper (leftover pizza, as usual). The boy may have been tired out by the day's constant activity, but he found a dinner wasn't quite the sort of rest he really needed or, more importantly to Brandon at the moment, wanted. Had he thought about the previous night's activity with Rago perhaps he would have known Zan would be ready, willing, and able to give Brandon a helping paw (or mouth or tailhole or cock), but the thing was the thought of it all was such a shock to Brandon that he didn't believe it truly happened.

In smaller words, Brandon genuinely believes he had dreamed the whole thing.

So, instead of talking to the Zangose, Brandon performer his typical alternative: he sat down by his homework desk and started booting up his laptop. A certain sneaky Zangoose would have none of that, though. Getting the boy off was his job, it seemed, since the Dragonite hadn't even bothered with it. Zan was crouched down, peeking through a minuscule crack that he himself had made sure would be available by sticking a paw out to keep the boy's bedroom door from closing entirely. Unbeknownst to Brandon, the boy was under sharp surveillance.

at the sight of Brandon's next action, Zan shook his head to himself in disapproval. _Amateur,_ he remarked within his own head, _Only a complete amateur bookmarks his porn. And is he even using an incognito window? No wonder Rago caught him so easily. __It's like he's trying to broadcast it! _However, Zan's mental tone of voice was not disgust, but more of a sort of comical amusement. _Five... four... three... two...,_ the Pokemon began to count down, and his timing perfectly coincided with the planned diversion.

"Brandon!" the deep voice of Pert carried from the floor below to the kid's bedroom. "Can you come here?"

"Coming!" shouted Brandon in response, seeming a bit disappointed as Zan glances at him going down the stairs from behind a new, temporary hiding spot behind a chair in the adjacent TV room. _Don't worry, kid,_ Zan joked in his head, now taking the free opportunity to sneak into the vacant bedroom. _I'll make up for interrupting your little session._ Then, he glanced at the monitor. _Really? Just leave your porn up in plain sight? Kid, we are having a serious discussion about porn safety after dinner. Your dinner, that is._ That last thought got the skulduggerous Zangoose licking his lips in anticipation. As the boy's footsteps began to regress, Zan concealed himself beneath the desk and lay in wait.

"Finally," grumbled Brandon, slightly irritable after being needlessly called away as he sat back down in his rolling leather chair, "Why would I need to be reminded to do my homework when Zan took me out instead of going to school, anyway?" He had felt a little bad about cutting school, but Zan somehow managed to talk him into doing it.

Zan suppressed his chuckle as the kid quite quickly quit grumbling and got clicking. The Pokemon was sure he heard slurping and moaning from directly above him at the same time that his human's shorts, underwear still in the, hit the floor between the as he was, the tip of Brandon's sixer was perfectly eye-level to Zan, who grinned deviously while chuckling behind a covered mouth, unwilling to be caught _just_ yet. However, he did open wide and start inching closer after his little laugh.

As for Brandon, he was starting to feel hot and heavy quickly as things progressed further in his video. He wasn't quite sure how long he could go without his sign of arousal being taken care of, nor did he have any idea how long before it _would_ be addressed.

Which was about a second-and-a-half.

Zan licked his lips again before making his final move, opening wide and engulfing just over half te boy's member and commenced to suck on it lightly, looking straight up at his human. The boy was so surprised by the sensation that he nearly fell out of his chair; as it was, he gasped and darted his eyes downward. "Z-Zan?" he stuttered awkwardly.

The feline-rodent grinned widely around Brandon's dick as if he had just cornered his prey while ceasing his sucking, following that by quite slowly sliding off of his human's maleness. "How you doin', kid?" he purred next, crawling out from under the desk and following to state with false innocence, "You left your door open."

"But- I mean- why are you-?" was all the dumbstruck teen could blurt out. Zan got the message, though.

"Don't forget: your birthday is in five days, and today's my day to keep you company. Since we've got how long to midnight, I'm still on the clock, handing out with you, taking care of you, and all that other nice stuff." Well, Brandon couldn't pretend that wasn't something he'd fantasized about (and had just been watching prior), and it _did_ feel awfully good during that moment he was being sucked. Actually, in addition, it was an emotional touch, Zan's proposition, too. The Pokemon glanced downward. "And right now, I see something I can 'take care' of. Just sit back, kid," he lustfully growled, "and call this the card that I forgot to include in your present."

Zan commenced to gently rub the smooth, soft skin of young Brandon's belly, finding he was getting his own sort of pleasure from Brandon's undivided attention; not really knowing anything about blowjob etiquette, the kid didn't really know what to do besides stare, still stunned slightly, and blush heavily. He was as hard as ever, and he backed up the chair so Zan wouldn't be quite so cramped.

Instead of his paws, the Zangoose then began to stimulate Brandon's lower belly through soft, extended strokes of the tongue, but that didn't last overly long. He headed southbound, and his furry chin gently tickled the boy's member while the Pokemon licked all around Brandon's crotch, though he specifically avoided the cock... for the moment. That all got Brandon wiggling and squirming. The Zangoose in his video was starting to jack off his human while his mouth was wide open, but now Brandon couldn't have cared less; he could only focus on his friend, for it was worth so much more to him.

As for Brandon's friend, Zan's next move was to shut his eyes and murr softly as he gently grasped Brandon's cock in a paw and licked one side of it while stroking it while deliberately inching forward on his knees. Brandon wriggles significantly more in reaction to finally receiving some much needed stimulation, in turn earning a reaction in from the Zangoose in the form of a smirk and a chuckle. He purred during his session of lapping and licking.

"Hm. Not bad," remarked the purring Zan during a brief pause. Not only was it something that aroused the kid still further, but it made him feel good to think that Zan as well was enjoying his compliment got him blushing again while the licks got him moaning softly in pleasure. The both of them were ready to move on, though.

Zan glanced upward, grinned to his human, and opened wide as if Nurse Joy had just asked him to say "ah." Being no stranger to sucking (when you leave six gay, horny Pokemon alone, stuff happens), it was kitten's play for Zan to end up with his wet nose against Brandon's crotch in no time at all. In a flash, Brandon understood why those in his porn videos moaned so much: it felt so great that he had to just til his head upwards and let it out.

Zan's ears twitched a bit while he grinned around the tool in his mouth, but that was short-lived as he withdrew from it and regressed to lapping at the boy's cock tip simply to be a bit of a tease. Zan saw no need to overly extend this, however; after all, he still knew that it was about Brandon's fun and enjoyment, not the Pokemon's own. That worked out for Brandon, since such teasing turned the poor boy's moans into needy whimpers. _That'll do it,_ was Zan's thought as such passed. Once more, the Zangoose got to suckling and bobbing his head on the boycock, purring the whole time and consequently providing a vibration that Brandon could physically feel. To Brandon, everything within the borders of Zan's feline lips at any given time felt as warm as a relaxing campfire, and that rough tongue combo'd with Brandon's inexperience meant that the boy received very heavy stimulation while watching Zan pleasure him in lust.

Zan began to murr softly and kept managint to smile around Brandon's meat, the tip of his own tail on top of his own head, which dived and retreated rhythmically, repetitively, and briskly. Such speed elicited heavy panting from the human, almost sounding like pain but in fact the exact opposite. "Sh-should I," Brandon began to ask after so many minutes of silence, "avoid c-cumming in your mouth?"

The furry Pokemon shook his head (and Brandon's simultaneously) and blushed beneath his fur; under no circumstances would he allow his boy to orgasm anywhere but in his eager maw. His grip with his lips was snug and firm, determined to get Brandon off. It worked.

"G-good..." was the kid's response to this gesture, "because I... I... I... aaah!" The end of his dialogue was a scream because it got to the point where the oral stimulation from Zan brought forth the kid's end, forcing him to squirt his voluminous load of human cum straight into the awaiting maw of the Zangoose. Once Zan had tasted Brandon's spunk, he dove as fas down as to be able to kiss the kid's crotch and allowed it to flow sweet and golden down his throat. It was for a small whole that Brandon unloaded into Zan, and by the time he had finished, the kid was panting like a Herdier. Zan chuckled a bit after sliding his mough off of Brandon. He licked his own lips once more and in a joking tone, though he also meant it, relished, "Mmm... delicious."

Brandon ended up coming down from his orgasmic high, and clarity of thought returned to him. "Zan... can I ask you something? I thought it was a dream, but... last night, did-"

"Rago bend you over and fuck your brains out? Yes, yes, he did. Said you were a nice little bitch, too." The boy blushed; he knew he was. "So, whaddya think, kid? Dinner time?"

Brandon nodded eagerly, rose, pulled up his shorts, opened his bedroom door, and asked the Pokemon, "Are you coming?"

"No, thanks," was the Zangoose' response, patting his own belly. "I'm full."

* * *

Two Pokemon down, four to go. Who do YOU want to see next? Let me know in a review or a message!


	3. ANNOUNCEMENT

Announcement regarding Brandon's Birthday requests: it seems that asking for requests in the form of reviews is a little confusing for me to keep track of. So, my method to keep track of them is as follows: go to my profile page and vote in a poll that I have posted with all four remaining Pokemon being choices. After chapter 3 is up, the poll will be reposted with the three remaining Pokemon, and so on and so on.

As well, to those who are unaware, I also post the stati of all my writing projects whether they be finished, unfinished, in progress, stalled, a concept but not yet a begun story, and all that other nice stuff on my profile.


	4. Zike's Training

Do you want say in who Brandon's next partner will be? Three choices remain: the Swampert, the Ursaring, and the Typhlosion. All will be included eventually, so vote for whom you would like to see be with our protagonist Brandon next! The pool can be found on my profile. I love reviews, but know that any requests regarding Brandon's future partners in reviews will not be counted as votes. I do hope you enjoy part three of this seven-part series!

FUN FACT: If this fun fact part of the chapter was removed, this chapter would have the exact same number of words as Shadow of the Wings... but now it doesn't. :P

* * *

As much as Brandon had enjoyed the events of the previous day of Zan (and he would likely make the same choice twice), he found himself still regretful for skipping school, as even the teachers at his high school showed no mercy to the freshmen; none of his teachers cared enough about his "stomach flu" and simply wanted their mountains of missed work scaled by the day after Brandon's return to school. True, a 13-year-old in high school is a bit unusual, but the boy had always been bright for his age.

Young and bright, though, isn't something that the "senroyalty," as Brandon mockingly called them in his own head, really cared for. It seemed as though even filthy-rich parents weren't enough to get in good with the seniors that ran the school if you were a 13-year-old freshman. As a matter of fact, Brandon actually suspected that he was being treated worse than the average freshman. At the very least, he seemed to get picked on more often.

Being greeted by five or six 17 to 19-year-olds with, "Hey, fresh meat!" from the meathead leader of the bunch and having the bologna sandwhich that Pert had prepared for him snatched away as casually as one would pick out clothes from the closet on this Tuesday was a perfect example of this. As much as Brandon hated it, he knew the drill; in no time, his lunchbox was being thoughtlessly emptied by the thugs while the boy himself was forced to bear the shame of merely playing the audience to his own victimization. "A rittle right, resh mear," unsatisfiably remarked the braindead apparent leader of the bunch. Brandon assumed that he meant, "A little light, fresh meat."

"Sorry, Mogan," Brandon insincerely apologized, "I packed for one, not seven."

"Werh, ah leasht you doh yur mishtake," responded the bully before swallowing the last of Brandon's balogni. "But start learning, kid. We're almost through the year. The servants - that's you - bring the food for the kings - that's us." Morgan changed his tone into a condescension as if speaking to a small child who just did something cute but naughty, coupling it with ruffling Brandon's hair. "When you grow up to be big and strong, little boy, you can get all the free food you want. Are you starting to see how the system works?"

"Not really," admitted Brandon with false nonchalance, in truth extremely frustrated and angry. "But how the system fails to work is quite clear."

That smart comment earned the boy a black eye, a bloody nose, and a one-way trip home after being assured by the assistant principal, "Don't worry; we'll take care of this," even while both he and Brandon knew that it no measures taken would have any positive effect. The boy even wondered whether the assistant principal wasn't just lying through his teeth,

Pert was the one in the kitchen, eating his own lunch at the time, that first caught notice of Brandon's return. "Brandon?" he asked with surprise, alerting the rest of the present company (Rago, Zan, Zike, and Ty) to the Brandon's presence. "What are you doing home so early? Oh, gosh, what happened to you?"

While Pert was the first to speak, Zike the Blaziken was the first to act. All the while Pert spoke, the fighter was already crouched down, holding Brandon's chin still and inspecting the injuries while blood now trickled down his claws. The avian's eyes narrowed. "Were you in a fight?" he asked in a no-nonsense tone.

Brandon shook his head. "No. A fight implies multiple factions attempting to harm each other. It was more like an outright beating."

Zike nodded considerately, having suspected as much. By this point, Pert, Ty, Rago, and Zan had all crowded around as well. Pert wiped away a tear from his human just before gravity could start pulling on it. His following action was to wrap a scaly arm around the boy and start leading him away. "Come on," suggested the Swampert, "Let's clean the blood, change your bloody clothes, and get you some painkiller."

While the rest of the gang minus Sarin retreated back into the kitchen, Pert took Brandon upstairs. Alright," declared Zike, slapping his hands on the table. "All in favor of finding who hurt Brandon and kicking their ass so hard that it sticks out of their nose?"

Ty dropped his fork on his plate. "Really, Zike?" he scolded, "some of us are still trying to eat here!"

At that point a series of loud, rapid thuds was an indicator to the group around the table that Sarin finally seemed to be taking a break from his little pet project and was sprinting down the stairs with some urgency. At the point when the kitchen was in sight, he leaned over the banister and shouted, "Hey, you all, I just saw Brandon walk by looking bloodier than Bloody Mary! What happened to him?"

Despite raising his voice being unnecessary for the Ursaring to hear him, Zike shouted at the bear, "He got beat up at school! Now we are debating the most effective method of killing the son of a bitch!"

Even Zan had to recognize that Zike was starting to lose it again. The feline stood and interrupted, "Hey, easy there, Zike. No one's killing anybody. You know how human law works. We do anything, and there are two possible scenarios. The better one is that we get taken from Brandon and put in a shelter. The worse still one is that we get taken and Brandon does time in juvenile hall. I don't know about you, Zike, but I'd say I'd rather not give up the luxury of humans with money just yet." The last remark was an attempt at lightening the tension, but it failed miserably.

That all earned a moment of silence from around the table until Ty commented, "Wow. Since when are you the voice of reason, Zan?" He laughed at his own joke. Nobody else did.

"Well, regardless," concluded the Dragonite, "Zan isn't wrong. Nothing we could possibly do would help Brandon. It's sad, but nothing is the best thing for us to do."

Zike quite clearly didn't like hearing that one bit. His hands became fists, his arms stretched downward like rubber bands at maximum bearable tension, and he screamed at the ceiling in extreme frustration before storming off to the basement.

* * *

The "basement" of Brandon's house, however, is so unlike a basement that nobody in the house really calls it that. The only things stored down there are things like extensive exercise equipment, heavy punching and kicking bags, sparring pads, padded floor mats, and a hot tub in which to relax a little after a long session of using all of the previous items. With mirrors lining two walls and a shelf crammed to the point of breaking with Pokémon tournament fighting trophies, the place really couldn't be called anything except for Zike's personal dojo.

"Hyah!" shouted Zike with a fury in combination with a blistering elbow strike that sent the hanging heavy bag swinging. On its return, it got pummelled again by a knee strike, side kick, and a combo of an inside crescent kick immediately followed by an outside crescent all from the same left leg!

_Crack!_

I will not accept defenselessness! declared the fiery fighter in his own mind while he turned his back on the bag. Something must be done, decided Zike, now walking away from the bag, which began to swing in a smaller radius. And it will be. At a sufficient distance, Zike stopped walking. And if none of us can do it - the firebird pivoted on his heels to face the bag, now swinging little enough to be an easy target - Brandon will. Finally, Zike ran straight at the bag while shouting relentlessly at it to signify that it would be shown less than no mercy. He didn't run for long, though; after a few steps, he leapt and let momentum carry him through the air while he extended his right leg. He crashed into the bag with a whalloping flying side kick.

_Crack!_

This time, Zike heard it. Looking up at the ceiling, he noticed that there were indeed cracks forming in a circle around the chain's anchor! This... is not good. The firebird mentally braced himself for a disaster, but even still he wasn't quite ready; he flinched a little as the bag hit the floor like a sack of bricks, and the crash it produced sounded as heavy as such despite the muffle of the padded floor mat. Whoops.

Zike decided subsequently that his venting session was done. However, for the first time, he dug into the closet and started setting up for another to use the basement's facilities.

* * *

An hour or so later of constant questioning about the incident at school and well-wishes from Zan, Pert, Rago, and Ty - Zike had been downstairs and Sarin was busy preparing his special present for Brandon - the boy was more than a little surprised to find Zike having emerged from the basement and interrupting.

A 'surprise,' huh? thought Brandon walking down the stairs behind the fighter. Well, I've heard that one before. Besides, he never invites anyone down here. Sure, we aren't forbidden from it, but I don't think Zike has ever asked for anyone to be down here. Not since he and Dad used to enter those- For half of a second, Brandon paused on the staircase. He's not here, and he isn't coming back anytime soon. Man up, Brandon.

While Zike opened the basement door, the boy was already getting mentally set to shed his pants and bend over in anticipation. However, just as he thought he had the firebird figured out, he was beaned right in the forehead by some flying projectile upon taking a single step past the threshold of the space. It didn't hurt, but it was a large enough object to startle the boy and get him to step back in surprise. "Put that on!" called Zike from across the room. Looking down at the projectile at his feet, Brandon recognized the irony of having been struck in the head by a sparring helmet without delay.

"What...?" Brandon asked more to himself than Zike, picking up the helmet. "Why?", however, was directed at Zike.

"Because," answered the fighter with a soft smile, "it would be much easier for me if I did not have to worry about making you even bloodier while teaching you how to hold your own."

The kid, as it turned out, didn't like the sound of that, so he immediately protested. "What? No! I don't want to fight!"

The avian just smiled wider, took the helmet from Brandon, and popped it on top of the kid's head. "Good," the Pokémon replied, velcroing the chin strap, "I do not want you to fight either. I want you to be able to keep yourself safe should another time rise when our mutual detest of you fighting is superseded by something like what happened today. Do you understand?"

The kid nodded somberly as well as gave up on the idea that Zike had called him to have sex. The current situation weighted far more heavily, however; as much as he just wanted to crawl into a corner and hide, he also knew such to be an impossibility. What else, then, could he do? His passivity had only gotten him taken advantage of and, in this case, beaten like an egg. The kid wasn't quite sure he could handle, more than the pain, that shame a second time, but was this really the only option?

It seemed so.

"Okay," the boy finally consented, albeit somewhat half-heartedly.

"Perfect. Then, come here on the mat," invited Zike, heading to stand just before a mirrored wall. The kid's heart nearly stopped, however, when he was halted by a snarl from the Pokémon just as Brandon's foot was about to be set down on the mat. "Take off your shoes!" the bird ordered adamantly.

Zike, like any other competent martial arts teacher, had Brandon start off through stretching. That worked out plenty well for the both of them, since both secretly marveled at the other's limberness while blissfully ignorant of that other doing the same. Brandon in particular was blown away; Zike was far more flexible than appearances let on.

Unlike Brandon, Zike had no issue touching his toes without bending his knees both standing and sitting. At the same time, Brandon could hardly get his knees to move at all without tearing a muscle during the butterfly stretch; Zike's knees easily touched the ground. In addition, when trying to clasp their hands behind their backs by having one hand go over the shoulder on the same side and the other stretching upwards and going beneath its shoulder, Brandon could only so much as make his fingers touch one way while Zike could practically shake his own hand in both directions.

Brandon had started sweating already after completing the various stretching warm-ups. "Can we turn on the AC, Zike?" the kid asked, plopping onto his back for a quick rest. "Heat may not bother you, but I'm only human!"

"No," Zike replied flatly, ending Brandon's rest prematurely with a good tug on both the human's arms, forcing the human to either stand up or fall flat on his face. "Sweat. Sweat like a Grumpig. Sweat is weakness being expelled from the body by strength.

"Easy for you to say," groaned Brandon, "Birds don't have sweat glands."

Instead of replying, the firebird opted instead to pick a nearby pad. He held it in front of himself like a riot shield - and it was about at large as one - and beckoned the boy over. "Come here, Brandon. Kick it."

Brandon did as asked by stepping opposite of Zike and kicking the pad. Zike didn't even have to use much of his strength to keep from being pushed backwards, but that isn't why he shook his head disappointedly. "Get a guard up, Brandon. You do not want to be hit right before an attack, do you?" The kid nodded and put two fists in front of his face. As silly as he felt doing so and about the situation in all, he actually intended to give it all not just for himself, but for the Pokémon who cared enough to bother with this training.

"Again," commanded Zike. The boy dropped his fists in preparation for his next attack, but just when his knee was in the air the fighter shouted, "Wham!" as loudly as his lungs would let him, startling the boy to the point that he fell right over backwards, kicking leg pathetically sticking up in the air before being the last thing to hit the ground.

Even the stone-cold-during-training Zike had to visibly and audibly stifle a chuckle. "And that, Brandon, is why we train on mats," he told Brandon, who gratefully accepted the outstretched hand offered to pull himself up. "You want to keep your guard up even during an attack; after all, the opponent may be faster than you. Again." Thud. "Again." Thud. "Again." Thud.

Over the course of the afternoon and even through a great deal of the evening, Zike gave Brandon no quarter. If Brandon wasn't punching something, he was kicking something. If Brandon wasn't kicking something, it meant he was too busy trying to evade strikes from Zikes' padded stick to do so. If he wasn't dodging or blocking something, it meant he was about to get whacked in the head.

Strangely enough, though, the kid really had to admit that it was kind of fun even though he was panting like an Arcanine, sweating like a Grumpig, and even had to go so far as to ditch his shirt in order to avoid boiling like a lobster in his own clothes. It was still exhilarating to get to use his body like a weapon, more exhilarating than it seemed like it should have been to Brandon. Getting to know Zike a bit better through the experience was an unexpected plus as well; Zike would spend so much time in the basement that as a little boy Brandon used to think he was just a visiting wild Pokémon.

But, boy, did the kid feel Mightyena-tired by the time the firebird finally let him go! He felt like he just wanted to shower off, hit the bed while stopping to do nothing on the way, and hope that his heartbeat would either have slowed down or stopped entirely by the time he woke up the next morning. "You are going to be very sore tomorrow," cautioned the firebird, accompanying Brandon to the thirteen-year-old's bedroom. "So see if you can get your partner tomorrow to go easy on you."

"Thanks for the defense lessons," thanked Brandon with full sincerity before nearly shutting his bedroom door. He stopped short in order to request, "Zike? I know someone was supposed to - umm - have sex with me tonight-" wow, did the boy feel like a slut putting it out there so plainly, "-but could you please ask them to make it up another day? I just want to go to bed."

True, Zike had suspicions that something of the sort might happen, but it still stung him a little bit; after all, if that training session meant that Brandon had to miss out on what they both knew the kid craved, it just meant the bully would win in Zike's mind, something the fighter was not about to tolerate. However, for the moment, he let Brandon think that Zike would allow him to surrender so easily. "Sure. The day after your birthday, maybe," is the reply Zike convincingly gave in combination with a small nod.

As exhausted as Brandon was, though, he wasn't too tired for his typical post-shower routine. After all, he was already without clothes, and he never seemed to be able to sleep at night without his little "ritual."

Zan was right, considered Zike, who hadn't left his spot outside the boy's bedroom door the entire time. Brandon is terrible at concealing his porn. He isn't even bothering to muffle his keystrokes. What else could he be doing on the computer at this time of night alone in the dark of his bedroom? And then, immediately after completing the thought, Zike's inner light bulb lit up, and his approach plan was quite quickly formulated. It involved barging in as if he had just remembered to tell Brandon something to begin.

So, that's exactly what Zike did. "Oh, Brandon, do not forget-" he wasn't verbally interrupted, but he was glad that he had an excuse to stop talking in the form of Brandon suddenly shutting his laptop and diving beneath the sheets; the avian had no idea on what he would be reminding Brandon of. Now, Zike could put on his best 'offended' face and continue. "Oh, I see... you would rather just get off alone than do anything with us. Okay," was his attempt at guilt-tripping the boy, punctuated with a resigned sigh. Unlike Zan, the Blaziken didn't feel very good about pulling such a low move, but his justification was that Brandon would enjoy the experience more than feel bad about Zike at the end of the day.

"Huh? N-no!" denied the boy desperately; that wasn't the case at all! It was just a habit of his, but he didn't think that would at all go over well. So, he didn't explain himself.

If this works, I'll have him eating out of the palm of my hands... among other things, chuckled Zike in his head while maintaining character externally. "It is okay, Brandon," assured Zike, "I will just tell the others that we will have to find some other way to make your fourteenth birthday special." Being a fighter, Zike was a specialist in predicting and manipulating his opponents. So, when he opened the door to leave, he wasn't surprised that the boy, despite being Sawsbuck-naked rushed to get it shut before Zike could have slipped out.

"No, Zike!" Brandon tried to explain, "I-it's just- I want to, I do want it!" Again, that slutty feeling crossed Brandon's mind. "You just pushed me so hard today-"

"Oh, interrupted Zike, feigning hurt, "You did want it... just, not with me..."

No! That wasn't what Brandon was about to say at all! He had been about to tell Zike that he wished he had thought to inform the firebird that Brandon was feeling better! "Zike, please," he grovelled, embracing the avian, "I see so little of you that I'd cherish any time with you, and I'd feel honored to become so much more intimate with you! How can I show you that?"

There it was. Brandon may as well have kneeled before Zike and begged to let Zike have his way with his human. Could one blame Zike for being unable to further keep it down? Ready for the final attack, the fighter pried Brandon off of himself and stood before the bed, turning his back to Brandon. "Only if you're sure," falsely resigned the avian, shutting his eyes to really sell it.

Actually, Zike was a bit worried by a moment of silence, but he needed not be; it was Brandon's turn to be sneaky. He had crawled onto the bed silently while thinking, I sure hope yesterday prepped me for this... Supporting himself on his elbows, Brandon apprehensively stuck out his tongue and inched forward steadily before it inadvertently came into contact with the end of the Blaziken's hard-on, causing the firebird's eyes to shoot open and him to subsequently smirk at the sight and feel.

Brandon was a little surprised by the strength and sort of flavor that flooded his whole mouth after one miniscule sample; it was lovely, like licking ice cream off of his face and hands, only without the ice cream. Well, no going back now! decided Brandon, though with no trace of regret or reluctance in his mental tone of voice. He grasped the nine-incher around its lower shaft and pointed it upwards, which allowed the kid to get a hungry look at its entirety in detail. Sticking his tongue back out, Brandon altered his grip to keep the Blaziken cock pointed upwards through clasping the head between his thumb and first finger so that his next wet, long lick unobstructedly glided upwards from there the testes and member linked straight to the head while making a couple of "detours" along the way, like getting attention to the shaft's sides, too.

Wow! He had barely started, but this was already exhilarating. No wonder all those porno actors and even Zan seemed to have such a time sucking!

Wait, he wasn't even really sucking yet. Should he be? No, concluded Brandon, that could wait for a small while longer. For a while, he stuck to manipulating the angle of Zike's member after every lap of his tongue in order to taste a piece of the meat that he hadn't yet. The fire-type radiated heat, and Brandon could feel every degree on his tongue as if Zike's member was a delicious slice of pizza fresh from the oven,

In the meantime, Zike's hand occupied itself by gently raking its claws through the human's hair - which was still damp enough to feel moist but dry enough that its softness could be compared to that of a Shinx kitten - as a sort of encouraging praise. "Yeah, it's a little odd at first, I know," the avian tried to persuade and encourage, "but it feels really good for me, and eventually you will-"

In his head, as his mouth was busy, Brandon chuckled maliciously at making the Blaziken suddenly shiver; half of the Pokemon's tool quickly disappeared into the hungry mouth of Brandon, and more was starting to follow. "Whoa!" cried Blaziken, who firmly grasped both of his human's cheeks and would let Brandon engulf no more. The kid stared upwards at the firebird, confused and hoping dearly that he hadn't done something wrong. "Do not overexert yourself, Brandon. You are going to choke yourself if you try too hard."

The boy was absolutely relieved to hear that Zike was just concerned for his safety. Giving a thumbs-up in acknowledgement, Brandon did not give up on his quest to swallow Zike whole, though he did proceed with more caution on the way down. As hard as he tried, much to his own disgruntlement, the human's body refused to accommodate more than three-quarters of his Pokémon. "It is okay!" Zike helpfully reassured, "It would be crazy to expect you to deepthroat right away. Just take your time and enjoy yourself."

To respond, the kid reluctantly glided off of Zike's cock. "But I want you to enjoy it, too," was his retort with a stupid grin and heavy blush.

Zike kindly stroked Brandon's hair some more. "You are the soon-to-be birthday boy here, Brandon. How does this sound: for this little birthday treat, you shrink that big heart of yours down just a little, and you can go back to being your considerate self once you have attained fourteen years of age."

That was rhetorical, and Brandon knew it, but he got the message and enthusiastically agreed, "Alright! Oh, and just so I don't have to say it later, I'd be perfectly happy to try swallowing," he then continued with a smirk.

That might have been among the hottest things Zike had ever heard aloud. Guiding the enthusiastic boy back to his pole with a hand, Zike explained, "You may not like it very much at first' whatever you expect it to taste like, it probably doesn't taste like that." At that point, the kid was bobbing back and forth like a steady metronome, unconvinced. "Undeterred, are you?" snickered the Blaziken, "Well, usually, if you just ride it out, you will love it by the end."

"Zike?" interrupted the boy, "Thanks. Now, why don't you rest your mouth and let mine do all the work? I'm ready to eat it all up at any time!"

That metronome subsequently sped up to three million BPM, Brandon at this point working solely for the treat of which he knew Zike could sure feed him plenty. Close to instantly, the firebird's breath sped up and hardened in response as if it was he who had just been worn out like an old pair of jeans instead of Brandon. Is this is revenge, the Pokémon decided, I should wrong Brandon more often. Not really, of course, but- oooooh, that is good!

With such enthusiasm on Brandon's part, there was no way that even this avian's willpower could maintain itself. Zike had to release, and he had to watch and feel Brandon's mouth spasm and tighten with each draught, hear each gulp of Zike's sperm that Brandon would have make once the Blaziken grabbed a hold of the boy's head and didn't let it go until each rope had been deposited onto his human's hungry tongue. "Brandon, I-" was all the warning the boy managed to get.

Zike shivered from the raw power of his own orgasm as well as impaled Brandon to the halfway mark, just shallow enough that the boy would get a good, solid taste of the entirety of the Pokemon's rich, creamy payload of fresh spunk. At first, Brandon just wanted to spit it out and go wash out his mouth; this tasted disgusting! However, after actually ingesting shot number one, he found it not to be quite so bad as he had thought. When the second plentiful squirt followed its first, Brandon was a little more prepared and wasn't quite so repulsed by the flavor of Zike's cum. He tried to savor it a little to see if it would improve even still, but the Blaziken's cock could not wait and deposited rope number three immediately, filling Brandon's mouth right up.

The boy didn't make the same mistake again through the remaining minute of Zike's constant sperm-shooting, and the flavor seemed to improve just a bit with every little shot that got poured into the kid's maw. Towards the end, he even found it to be pleasurable; it seemed like Zike was right. When Brandon was close to the point of being downright addicted, however, was when the Blaziken had no more to give. Brandon sucked it for a few seconds more, but that was it; no more would follow. His remark after gliding back off of Zike was, "Wow, I can't believe simple oral sex felt like that!"

"I am glad you enjoyed yourself, Brandon. I certainly did as well," commented the Pokémon, ruffling Brandon's hair. "Perhaps I should come - and cum - above ground more often. Until then, I regret to make such a hasty exit, but you do have school tomorrow. I would not want you to skip school for something so trivial as a session with us," was his next comment with a knowing wink, and both knew that Zike was speaking of the previous day with Zan.

Oh, right. school. As much as Zike had tried, Brandon didn't think self-defense was his thing. The still had to deal with Morgan and his crew tomorrow.


End file.
